Page 69 of Pose for Me
“Oh, I’m sure. I don’t think I was supposed to see my brother-in-law with your spunk on his face.”
I growl, cocking my hand back to sock him in the jaw, but knocking at my office door stops me. Dropping my hand, I turn to spot Candice, a shocked look on her face.
Jacob is far better at putting people at ease than me, so he moves smoothly out of my grasp and cuffs me on the neck. “Okay, sorry. I swear I won’t touch your stuff again. You’ve always been so possessive with your things, little brother.”
Candice’s face transforms into a more amiable expression. “This is your brother?”
“Older brother,” I grunt. I absently think of how I’ve had this office for three years and this is the first time Jacob has stopped by.
She nods and hands me the patient’s chart. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says and shakes Jacob’s hand. “I have three younger brothers, and they hate sharing but love to take my belongings. So, I understand.” She winks at me and leaves my office.
I’m glad to see Jacob at least had the decency to close the sketch pad before I snatched him off his feet.
After Candice leaves my office and shuts my door, I round on my brother. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugs and sits on the edge of my desk, using his index finger to push the sketch pad away from him. I snatch it up and put it in my attaché case. Where it was when he went snooping.
“I came to ask if you wanted to grab dinner. But after seeing what you drew, I have a feeling you’ll want to get home to your boyfriend.”
“Fuck you, Jacob.”
He laughs and comes over to throw an arm around my shoulder. I try to shake him off, but he holds firm. “It’s okay to have a boyfriend, Ry. You’re almost forty, and you’ve never been in a relationship. It’s nice to see you as close to happy as you’ll ever get.”
“I’m not,” I grumble, though he’s not wrong.
Every morning that I wake up with Lane in my bed, this ball of lightness fills my chest, and it grows with each passing day. I’m not sure if it’s contentment or something more.
I feel happy with every kill. Happy when my victims are posed perfectly and happy when the bodies are found. What I feel for Lane is bigger than that, though I don’t know what that’s called.
“Lane is cooking dinner,” I tell Jacob as I sit behind my desk to enter my notes.
He gasps almost comically. “You let him walk around the house? How do you know he won’t run?”
“Made a deal with him.” I tell him what I told Lane to keep him under my roof. “And I equipped him with an ankle monitor.”
“You think that will keep him in the house? What if he cuts it off and tries to run while you’re in surgery? What then?”
I wave Jacob off, though that is a concern of mine. I’m putting far too much trust in an FBI agent than I should, but I believe Lane when he says he won’t run.
But surprisingly, Idotrust him. That’ll mean my freedom if shit goes south, but I don’t think it will.
I’m a fucking fool when it comes to Lane, it seems.
Jacob grunts and looks like he’s not convinced but doesn’t comment. Instead, he tilts his head and stares at me, eyebrows bunched together. I stare back, not knowing what his issue is, but not backing down either way.
Then his eyes grow wide, and his smile spreads across his face. “Oh, my God. You reallydolove him. You’re in love with an FBI agent.”
I scoff and wave him off. “No, I’m not. I just enjoy having my boy around.”
Jacob sputters. “You’re his Daddy? Oh yeah, you’re in deep.” He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest, a smug smile on his face. “It’s nice to see you in love. You look younger, lighter. When do I get to meet him?”
“Fuck. Off,” I say through clenched teeth. I’m not in love.
Right?
That would be crazy, what with how Lane and I met. Besides that, there’s no longevity for us. Our relationship ends one of two ways: I let him go, and he turns me in, where I’ll spend the rest of my life in prison, or I kill him. We’re prolonging the inevitable since I’ll never let him go.
So why does the thought of killing Lane fill me with such dread that I almost can’t breathe?
